


Oh, What A Sin

by galentines



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, this is like half Jewish folklore fic lmao, whats a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:13:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galentines/pseuds/galentines
Summary: Zelda was not like Eve.
Relationships: Eve/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 20
Kudos: 69





	Oh, What A Sin

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been wanting to write about Lilith and Eve for MONTHS, so here it finally is. Uhh it’s without plot but also pretty much without porn, my apologies. Title from Hozier’s “From Eden” bc I’m a lesbian.

The first time Lilith saw Eve, all flowing blonde waves and skin dappled with sunshine, she forgot how to breathe. And she had never given thought to it before; drawing a breath. It just was, until suddenly, it wasn’t. 

She wasn’t meant to be near Eden, but she certainly poked and prodded at her boundaries. The angels could try all they wanted, but Lilith preferred it out here, where Adam’s eyes couldn’t follow. Even if she missed the lush greens, the sound of a brook, the chirp of a squirrel. The winds held such promise, and each breeze felt like salvation. 

But now, before her, was another woman. When had He created another? Eve seemed to carry a smile the way the sun carried her light- with gentle ease, proud yet unassuming. No creature like this could bow to Him, could it? Did she feel trapped as Lilith had? Would she join her in the dry unknown? 

But then a hand, scorchingly hot, pressed against her bare skin, making her back tingle. And so she turned away from the beauty, toward her fallen angel. For now. 

Would he accept Eve too, she questioned, out here in the open? Could she join them as they explored their land and celebrated their independence? She let magic play on her fingertips as she soothed the skin around his wounds, and drank in every word that came from his mouth. The two spoke long into the night, of deceit, of disguise, of trying to save the mysterious maiden from the life Lilith knew was planned for her. 

She would not let the false god demand submission of another. 

Lilith was graced with many fantastic gifts, and one bestowed her the form of whatever creature she desired. She could soar with the owls under a starry night, or prowl alongside a cougar tracking its prey. But the form of a snake would serve her well, allowing her to fit into cracks and over branches, to hiss in ancient languages and wrap around a soft arm. 

Eve had welcomed her with curiosity and a smile; she hadn’t yet met a snake in the garden. Lilith glimmered before her, sleek blacks and reds, just above a ruby red apple. She could see the innocence in Eve’s gaze, remembering what it felt like when the world was new. And above all, Lilith felt a strange compulsion to whisk away this beauty, to watch her blossom away from His will. 

And Eve had wondered, as minds would then always do. The apple looked delicious in her grasp, but was nothing compared to the rosy pink of her lips as they wrapped around the fruit. Lilith ached to taste them, to lick the sweet juice from her chin and know the woman beneath. 

After—once the false god reclaimed the garden and cast out man—the wastelands began to turn green. Lilith and Eve would lay together in the warm air, for now the sun began to venture past Eden. Lilith reveled in the heat on her body, watching their skin turn golden as they explored one another. She longed for the woman’s smile, for her laugh. She would slither back to scales, draped over Eve’s shoulders, nestled into the warmth of her bosom. 

Eve didn’t leave Adam, nor did she desire to follow Lucifer. Why retreat to a pit, with the whole of nature at their fingertips? But she glowed each time Lilith paid a visit, and would come to life under her touch. 

It was nothing like the brute force of Adam, nor the strong hand of Lucifer. Her lord would take her like a beast, primal and rough, and she loved him for it. She felt exemption in the way she and Lucifer fit together, in the talk of plans and hopes for what they were building, in their passionate movement against one another. But Eve, sweet pliant Eve, would draw it out for hours. Her stomach was a velvet cushion under Lilith’s cheek, her thigh a tender bite between Lilith’s teeth. 

She loved them both. Lucifer, her rock, and Eve, her flower. But it was never meant to last. 

Lucifer refused to share, as she learned slowly and painfully. Freedom became constriction, with such precision that she had not realized as it happened. He demanded devotion, and she willingly gave it, dreaming of glory and a glimmering grown. The higher the flames surrounding her, the more she could taste power. 

She wasn’t aware of the ache, of the shape Eve left behind, until it was much too late. Until her lungs were full with smoke and flame bent to her will. 

She never touched an apple again.

—

Zelda was not like Eve. 

Zelda was headstrong, bold and proud. There was no innocence in her eyes, but rather a world-weary wisdom. And underneath the rough exterior, just a touch of despair. The world had already disappointed her, probably many times over. Zelda had come to expect it. 

No, Zelda was not much like Eve at all. But then, Lilith was not the same woman Eve loved. She, too, had been led astray by the world. 

Zelda carried a weight, a sadness. It was the same weight Lilith saw when she looked in the mirror, no matter which skin she wore. But Zelda also had the bite of winter in her eyes, and a tongue sharper than any serpent Lilith had known. She was a fighter. 

Lilith would travel as a raven, gliding under the stars as she did in her youth, to come perch on Zelda’s windowsill. But she was not immediately welcomed. Though she had no succulent fruit held out in her talons, she knew Zelda wouldn’t have accepted it anyway. Zelda didn’t trust easy, or come quietly. 

Oh, but Zelda was soft, silk under Lilith’s fingertips. Her hair was not as fair as Eve’s, her voice not as airy. Her skin gleamed white as the moon, her moans guttural and earthy, her hands greedy. She took what she wanted but gave just as readily, in ways neither Eve nor Lucifer ever had. Her lips were ruby red and devouring, but moved against Lilith with a sort of reverence that caught her by surprise. 

Eve had looked at Lilith as one does a lover; Zelda looked at Lilith as if she were _ divine.  _

And each day, when the sun blessed the small town with its presence, Lilith would feel Eve. And she did not feel guilt, nor sadness. 

She felt hope. 

So Zelda was not Eve, Greendale was not entirely a wasteland, and the crown felt farther from Lilith’s grasp than ever. But brimstone held little promise these days, and some memories were best left in the past. 


End file.
